You're Mine
by DharmaGirl07
Summary: Three vingettes looking at the phrase "you're mine" and what it has meant at various points in Ben Linus's life. Ben/Annie, Ben/Alex, and Ben/Juliet. No smut. Feedback is always appreciated.


"You're mine."

He blushed.

"I'm sorry, Benjamin Linus, but there's nothing you can do. Kick, scream, wail, tear your hair out, I won't let you go. You're mine."

"Always and forever, my Annie."

She beamed at him and snuggled closer. Suddenly, a mischievous light sparkled in Ben's eyes. With one deft move, he switched their positions, so now he pinned her securely but gently underneath him. Her face registered her mild shock, but she laughed.

"Is there something you want?" she asked, feigning ignorance and innocence. Ben smiled and began giving her little teasing kisses and nibbles designed to torment her.

"Oh, there is something," he began.

"And that is?" Annie struggled to ask through her fog of pleasure. Ben stopped abruptly, and looked her straight in the eye. Those bright blue eyes always caught her off guard.

"Tell me you're mine."

Annie basked, in the way only a happy woman can.

"I'm yours. Only yours."

Stretching her thin neck upward, she kissed him. It was long and familiar. Jolting them out of their own private world, the phone next to the bed rang, loud and klaxon-like. Ben sighed, released her soft wrists from his rough workman's hands, and answered the phone.

"Hello?" Annie heard the edge of annoyance in his voice. She instinctively felt sorry for the person on the other end of the phone. She had known Benjamin long enough to realize that annoying him or, worse, truly angering him was a dangerous business she made a rule of avoiding. When he became angry, he transformed, becoming almost reptilian in his cold, calculating way of finding some kind of redeeming satisfaction. She knew, even if he didn't, that he often resorted to cruel and malicious means to an end. But he had been that way for a long time, Annie reasoned, and, really, it wasn't his fault. She couldn't tell him that, however. It was her own personal burden that nevertheless lifted the weight off her shoulders whenever he came home upset and treated her with a frustratingly estranged demeanor. She alone could understand fully the way Benjamin Linus was.

"Thank you, Horace. I'll be there as soon as possible." Unfailingly polite, she thought. Annie half rose from the bed.

"What was that all about?" she asked hesitantly. The razor-straight edge of Ben's turned back warned her to tread carefully.

"There's been a special kind of leak, the kind only a lowly workman can correct, down at one of the stations, and I have to leave immediately to help clean up their stupidity," he intoned acidly. His mind seemed to change, and his shoulders slumped. Ben turned, bringing his face close to her's.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I wanted tonight to just be about us."

"You'll come back to me, right?" Annie whispered in return.

"Of course, my love."

"Now, why is that?" Trying to make light of her disappointment, hoping that it would put Ben in a better mood, she looked at him coyly, stroking her chin as if in deep thought. He smiled, momentarily forgetting his aggravation.

"I have no idea. Why is that?"

"Because you're mine."

----------

Benjamin Linus paced the room nervously. As a smaller man, he felt like he was twitchier than other, taller men. It was as if his smaller body couldn't contain the thrumming electricity of his emotions. Why did they have to take so long to make a decision? He tried to wait patiently. He had had years of practice before this. Waiting, waiting, and more waiting seemed to take up a large chunk of his existence. Why was he having so much trouble controlling himself this time? Whatever the reason, he knew he would behave well when they opened the door. There was one camera in the room, but he happened to know, though they thought he didn't, that it was broken. He was the master of his own face and his own talents. No matter what he was feeling, he had the satisfying power of pulling his outward demeanor into an inscrutable blank. He needed that refuge, that safety. So many times, he was asked to do things he would never openly confess to a decent person. So many times, Richard required of him things that took a hard outlook and an even harder shell of protection. This incident, as he named it in his head, had changed things. Suddenly, there was no danger, no threat of exposure, and he felt strangely released and relieved. It was a symbiotic relationship, and he wanted it to continue. Creaking uncomfortably on its heavy hinges, the door to the room opened, and three men entered, clothed in earthy, worn outfits. Ben immediately retreated inside himself in a protective move. Trying to be gracious, he nodded and smiled at the three men, greeting them in turn.

"Good evening Richard, Matthew, Will."

"Evening, Ben," Richard replied, the most overtly courteous of the three. The other two stood behind him in a way that reminded Ben of lurking. Sucking in an overly large breath, Richard turned to look at the other two. "Shall we just do it now?" With two nods of acquiescence, he turned back to Ben.

"We have decided that, for all intents and purposes, you, Benjamin Linus, may henceforth permanently keep, adopt, and raise the female infant Alexandra."

Ben's eyes widened with excitement, but kept the rest of his face a still mask. Matthew left the room silently. Richard finally broke into a smile.

"Congratulations, Ben," he said warmly, extending his hand. For the first time since their arrival, Ben let down his guard and smiled. He took Richard's hand and shook it for all he was worth. Matthew reentered the room, carrying in his arms the tiny, sleeping baby. Smiling faintly, the only sign of his or his compatriot's approval during the whole course of the interlude, he extended the child to Ben, who took her, grateful and awed.

In just a few short minutes, Ben was back at home with her, sitting in the new rocking chair in the surprise nursery the other strange members of this society pieced together while he was sweating in the waiting room, impatient to hear the final verdict. He gazed into the petite face, admiring all the dimples, stray wisps of hair, and minute fingernails. Until very recently, he had never thought he could be a father. There had been plans, an eternity ago, which had gone catastrophically wrong, but he tried to forget those. Even then, he had his doubts. The beautiful woman in his life reassured him that he would be a wonderful father, full of caring and nurturing, but somehow he was never totally sure. Now, holding his own personal saving grace, he knew that she had been right all along. Ben knew, in the most private corner of his consciousness, that he would do anything for this little Alexandra. He would die for her. In her dreamland, something caused her to shift and snuffle. She pushed an awkward fist in her eye, then opened them to Ben.

"Hello," he whispered. "Welcome to your new home."

Alex struggled slightly against the tightly wrapped blankets, fussing a little.

"I know it's strange right now," Ben cooed, "but you'll get used to it soon enough, trust me."

He began singing "Here Comes the Sun" softly, letting his voice linger on "little darling". She was his own little darling, now. As if responding to the soothing sound of his voice, she settled in his arms once more. He smiled, a free, happy expression so rarely seen on his face since his wife's death, and then there was the Purge.

"Alex, my Alex," he said in a sing-song voice. Ben put his finger into her little hand, and she gripped it tight. He glowed. "I'm so happy. You're mine."

----------

"Oh my god, oh my god," a blonde woman cried. Her voice edged on hysterical and she clambered across the rough terrain to the rotting body of a middle-aged man. The blunt stick jutting out of his chest and the sickly pallor of his face assured her there never was any hope, and tears began to flow unbidden.

"Why?" she cried in the direction of the man who brought her there. He looked down at her coldly in her moment of pain.

"Do you mean why did I bring you here instead of his wife?"

Juliet looked up at him dumbfounded. Yes, she was having an affair with Goodwin, the dead man cold on the slope, but that was no reason to take her to his body first.

"Don't you understand?" Ben looked at her with slight disbelief. "You're mine!"

Upset at himself for revealing any unnecessary emotion, his lips seal suddenly in a tight-lipped grimace.

"Take as much time as you want."

With that, he turned, beating a furious pace back to the main enclave of his people. Desperately, he tried to focus on the path, the time, the birdsong around him, but he knew the island too well. His mind began to drift, and thoughts he tried so hard to repress floated to the surface of his consciousness. Unexpectedly angry, his face contorted, the thin lips drawing a severe line across his face. Ben really didn't know why he had to do that. Or, why he had to trick her into spending an evening alone with him. Suddenly, it seemed so pointless. It's not like she would or possibly could replace what he lost. Nothing could replace that. It was just so tempting to try, because they looked so much alike. Sure, his Annie had been much more beautiful, he assured himself, but Juliet had her own certain alluring charm. He liked that she was a scientist. A cold rationalist, Ben had always liked other objective clinicians. Instantly, blazingly angry again, he reprimanded himself again. Memories of the woman he was trying to replace with Juliet came flooded back in an instant of pain that knocked the breath out of him. Ben's knees began shaking uncontrollably, and he sank heavily onto a moss-covered rock. Leaning his head back, he took huge, gulping breaths, like a dying fish, sparkling in the ocean sunlight as it gasps for life. Not like it mattered, he thought bitterly to himself, whether he lived. His Annie was gone, like the decomposing man Juliet now bent over reverentially. Ben sat, gazing up at the mottled sunlight streaking through the jungle canopy, and turned the events of his life over dully in his mind. He was looking for a reason to live aside from Jacob and his nagging need to protect the Island. All of a sudden, he heard a rustling in the jungle; something was coming toward him.

"Dad?"

"Alex?" Ben stared up at his daughter, who looked just as surprised as he. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, just walking around," she said evasively, shifting her weight. Ben knew she was up to something. She was up to something almost all the time these days. He also knew she wasn't feeling exactly friendly toward him right now, so he should tread carefully. He arched his eyebrow nonchalantly, feigning disinterestedness.

"Oh, well, it's your business."

Alex, taken aback by his casual tone, let go abruptly of the defensive stance. Leaning forward, she looked closer at her father.

"Hey, are you okay, Dad? You don't look so good."

Ben looked at his little girl and smiled. His eyes softened. It didn't matter how many years rolled by – she would always be special, and he would always love her.

"Thanks for asking, Alex, but I'm fine. Really. I was taking a walk, too, and got a little lightheaded."

Alex gave him a nervous smile back.

"Alright," she conceded hesitantly. "I don't know if I'll be home for dinner." She began to skirt away from him. In his mind, she looked like a skittish fawn.

"I'll keep some warm for you in case you decide to come home."

"Thanks." She smiled at him, still slightly nervous. "I'll see you later, Dad."

As Alex gave a little wave and moved off into the jungle, Ben breathed more easily. She had reminded him of one very good reason why he needed to keep living.


End file.
